


Chestnut Bookshop

by WritingQuill



Series: 25 Days of Christmas Drabbles [24]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Matchmaking, Mrs Hudson cooks, Uni!lock, hand-holding, the ever-amusing cliche of attempted matchmaking at a bookshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingQuill/pseuds/WritingQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the holiday season and Mrs Hudson hires an extra helper for her bookshop. John is a really nice boy, and she desperately wants him and Sherlock to be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chestnut Bookshop

**Author's Note:**

> Day 24, word: chestnuts
> 
> I have absolutely no idea what chestnuts have to do with Christmas, so I've used it as a chance of "whatever tickles your fancy". I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Happy Christmas Eve!

The holidays were a busy time at Chestnut Books, as Mrs Hudson noticed every year. This year, however, she made a decision to hire extra help. Now, she already had Sherlock and he was wonderful — very diligent and took good care of her books — but it simply wasn’t enough. So, she put on an add and there came John Watson. He was a lovely boy, two years older than Sherlock — being 21 and in medical school. He was polite and kind, and at first Mrs Hudson was afraid that Sherlock — he was a special boy, but so difficult — might scare him away. You just didn’t find good clerks anymore these days, especially ones that are willing to work hard through the Christmas holidays. 

She should have known that this would not be the case, though. 

A couple of weeks before Christmas, John had been working there for a few weeks already. Mrs Hudson had noticed that he and Sherlock had actually grown to like each other. John even made Sherlock laugh! Now that was a sight to behold. 

She had been cleaning the back shelves, when she overheard them at the front. Surreptitiously — it wasn’t eavesdropping if it happened in your shop, now, was it — she leaned on the shelf to watch them. She couldn’t hear anything because they were speaking in low tones, but suddenly she heard a snort and Sherlock’s head was thrown back and he was laughing like she’d never seen before. Afraid that he might be laughing at John — as opposed to with him — she looked over at him and was pleasantly surprised to see him chuckling as well, smiling smugly at the success of the tale. Or joke. She still didn’t know. 

From then on she had decided that they were a perfect match. John was unattached — Mrs Hudson had asked — and so was Sherlock. Of course there was always the fact that they might not be gay, but chemistry is something that cannot be denied. Also, she might have caught Sherlock’s lingering glances at John’s backside, but that didn’t matter. 

Now, two weeks before Christmas, she was opening the shop, thinking about how to get the boys together.

Not that she was a meddler. Of course she wasn’t. She just wanted the happiness for her boys, and she knew they’d find it with each other. They seemed so alone, both of them. 

‘Good morning, Mrs Hudson,’ John greeted as he walked in five minutes after she opened the shop. He looked ruffled, like he’d just been caught in the heavy wind. 

‘Good morning, dear. Would you like a cuppa? The kettle’s just boiled,’ she said, giving him a warm smile. He smiled back, fondly. 

‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ He took off his scarf and coat, and hung them in the hanger by the till. Then he put his heavy backpack under the counter and sighed. ‘It’s really cold out, I almost slipped in the black ice outside of the tube…’ he told her with a chuckle. Mrs Hudson handed him the cup of tea and giggled. 

‘Oh, bless. That is a heavy looking bag you’ve got there,’ she said. John nodded. 

‘Going to the library tonight, study marathon and all…’ John explained, sipping his drink. A few moments later, Sherlock waltzed in, as he always did. The boy had a thing for the dramatics. He shot a dashing smile at both John and Mrs Hudson, then proceeded to remove his trademark blue scarf and fancy coat. 

‘Hello, dear,’ Mrs Hudson greeted. 

‘Hello, Mrs Hudson. John.’ Then he moved to the small office at the back and made himself a cup of tea. 

The morning went on uneventfully. Mrs Hudson needed a way of making the boys realise how much they liked each other. Because by then she _knew_ that there were strong feelings there — if the blush on John’s cheek whenever Sherlock brushed past him was anything to judge it by. Perhaps a direct approach would be best? They were bad at subtlety. 

‘So, John, what are you doing for Christmas?’ she asked him during lunch. 

‘Revising,’ he replied feebly. Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he chewed on his chicken pie — Mrs Hudson loved to cook for them since they ate so eagerly. Noticing Sherlock’s questioning, John shrugged. Sherlock seemed to understand and bowed his head. Mrs Hudson was left confused. They had just had an entire conversation with looks. Amazing. ‘Hm, sorry, Mrs Hudson..’ John chuckled, glancing at Sherlock, who smirked. ‘Home isn’t really a welcome holiday location.’ 

She nodded, then turned to Sherlock. ‘What about you, Sherlock?’ 

‘Forced to have lunch with Mummy and Mycroft on Christmas Day, but I’ll leave soon after. I have some experiments to finish.’ 

‘Sounds lovely,’ she smiled. Sherlock sneered. 

‘It’s hateful,’ he said. John snorted. ‘What is it, John?’ 

John shrugged. ‘You could always come over. I’ll be having a feast of Chinese leftovers and chemical formulas — sounds like just your thing,’ he said. Mrs Hudson’s eyes widened. 

Sherlock smiled. ‘I might take you up on that offer.’ 

After the lunch, it all went back to normal, and Mrs Hudson wondered if something bigger than her had happened. It felt like it. She watched the boys closely as she talked to the costumers, how they hovered around each other, always in one another’s orbits. How sometimes they stole glances, their fingers brushed, how Sherlock seemed to be completely aware of where John was. 

Mrs Hudson thought to herself that maybe she had been just a tad blind. 

Before she locked the shop at the end of the day, Mrs Hudson looked through a couple of shelves and saw John leaning on the counter. 

‘Are you leaving now?’ he asked Sherlock, who was in the office. She couldn’t hear the response, but John said ‘I’ll wait, then.’ 

Soon, as she was locking the register, Sherlock joined them, all dressed and ready to go. 

‘See you on Monday, Mrs Hudson,’ John said, kissing her on the cheek. She smiled. 

‘Good-bye, Mrs Hudson,’ Sherlock said. 

‘Bye-bye, boys. Have a nice Sunday!’ she said to them, then went to lock the door after them. Looking out the glass, she saw as they walked alongside each other, and as Sherlock moved closer and caught John’s hand in his. 

Mrs Hudson had never been happier to have been proven wrong.


End file.
